i will request
consider my irises your own
oh darling, sweet dear, this is the way. It goes:
look away and smile to
yourself and i will smile back but
when will we make contact when will we? take control
admit it. you love me.
ticktock. ticktock.but my russian isn't very good, and you see, i am learnin
that i never attain expectations make me cry break me down
take me home?
i am polite in asking you: admit it. you love me.and black celestial beings will protect me and keep me close
to their sides and i am, always have been the little one.
green flowers with purple stems and dying butterflies are my lot in life
a long figure with striped leggings, metal spiked garter, ivy around the ankle
and a ballet shoe.
a lumpy blue hat with forks stuck in it and it is calling my name sabrina.
we gaze into dismantled shady tattoo parlors
each wondering if our rusty storage containers can handle this much
and i see yellow calla(lilies) on the tile and they used to match the wallpaper.
no longer. now they stain my feet. have you seen my optimism?
it is drinking scotch with a russian ballet dancer,but i told you
i don't speak too well in english
much less in a foreign language.
i will pick up those
yellow calla(lilies) and put them in my hair.
smells sweet like solitude
giving them a home again.
you love me.